


The Night Has Just Begun

by adrift_me



Series: Old Light, New Light [9]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Bonfire scene, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Prompt Fill, Romance, it's making out time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:20:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28985496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrift_me/pseuds/adrift_me
Summary: As mindlessness takes over, the Guardian has just enough space for one more single thought. What a blessing it is that the night has only begun, and Crow’s lips are nearly not kissed enough.Bonfire scene quite certainly went like that.
Relationships: Guardian/Crow, Guardian/Uldren Sov
Series: Old Light, New Light [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2090106
Comments: 3
Kudos: 50





	The Night Has Just Begun

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a prompt fill, I was asked to write the Guardian and Crow making out :) No thought brain empty!
> 
> [Come chat with me on tumblr :) I also take prompts!](https://a-driftamongopenstars.tumblr.com/)

A bonfire rises up high into the night sky, flames licking at the glitter of stars. It is a private patch of earth here, overlooking the lonely abandoned sights of EDZ, and not a soul wanders here. Not until tonight.

By that bonfire sits a Guardian. _The_ Guardian. Their bones are old and their wounds are scars. They pick a stick from a pile they’ve gathered earlier and through it into the flaming fire, conjuring sparkles and crackling to bother the peaceful night. They stare into the heart of burning light, as ardent as the yearning in their chest, threatening to pull them apart.

It is easier to go blind than to look at the lightbearer at their side.

Crow, a name that the Guardian often rolls on their tongue but rarely speaks out loud. Crow, a name that fills their ears with ringing noise. Crow, a name that makes something special unravel in their heart.

“Crow?” they say quietly, drunkenly, embarrassed at how hard it is to move lips when cheap wine controls your body, not your mind. The Crow looks at them, just as inebriated. His hood fallen off and his hair a mess, and oh, the Guardian can’t help but feel the texture of black between their fingers.

They want to feel every inch of Crow, and right now there is not a person to stop them from asking.

“Yes?”

“I’m going to kiss you. Is that okay?” the Guardian mutters, leaning closer to Crow. They think they hear Crow whisper something, “silly” or “oh” or something else and meaningless for the moment. All that matters is that pliantly Crow falls in their arms, and the Guardian presses their lips together.

Sweeter than wine. Tangy as wild berries. Limber, and more willing than a bird would be. The Guardian thinks this is madness, worse than the ever consuming Darkness, no, _better_.

They push their tongue further, testing, asking, inviting. Crow’s mouth is a need now, and what yet remains of a conscious mind tells the Guardian that Crow has a need just the same.

How long was it since they had a kiss? Is it possible to explode in sensations, more painful, more dazzling than bursting with the Traveler’s light in impossible power?

The Guardian tugs on Crow’s lip. Anything to stop thinking in epithets.

As mindlessness takes over, the Guardian has just enough space for one more single thought. What a blessing it is that the night has only begun, and Crow’s lips are nearly not kissed enough.


End file.
